


Storm Clouds and Storytellers

by Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum



Series: Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum/pseuds/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum
Summary: Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo prompt 5: Rainy day.Jaskier is determined to make the most of his first winter in Kaer Morhen.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079273
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117
Collections: Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo





	Storm Clouds and Storytellers

The skies over Kaer Morhen, usually a blanket of pure white cloud, had turned a deep, ominous grey. It didn't often rain so high in the mountains during Geralt's stays, but when it did it was always a sign that his time in the keep was coming to an end. He watched with a sigh as the first fat drops of rain hit the ground outside.

In a way he would welcome it when the pass thawed, a familiar kind of restlessness beginning to nag at him after too long away from the Path, which he knew would only settle once he'd had his first good fight of the year. But there was also a lingering sadness in leaving Kaer Morhen behind until the next winter. It was never easy to part from Vesemir and his brothers, each of them weighed down by the knowledge that next year may not see them all return.

Geralt looked over towards Eskel, stood at the next window watching the rain fall with rapidly increasing ferocity. He wore a look on his face that suggested he was thinking much the same thing as Geralt. Eventually he glanced back towards Geralt and smiled.

"Lambert's going to bitch when he sees this," he said.

The rain poured while the three of them trained in the courtyard, soaking them to the bone. It poured while they attempted to dry off in front of the vast kitchen hearth, though even the roaring fire struggled to contend with just how thoroughly sodden they were. Still, Geralt usually didn't have the luxury of a warm fire and a hearty bowl of fresh stew to lift his spirits when he was exposed to the elements. He'd miss this when he and Jaskier returned to the Path.

"Where's your bardling?" Lambert said to him around his mouthful. "Not seen him all day."

Geralt shrugged. "Off exploring somewhere, no doubt."

He'd been nervous, finally agreeing to bring Jaskier to the keep for the winter. It had soon been apparent that he needn't have worried. Jaskier was quick to bond with Eskel over their shared love of literature; keen to hear every story that Vesemir could share with him, the eager audience Vesemir hadn't had since Geralt and his brothers had been boys; and was more than crude enough to go toe-to-toe with Lambert — a feat that had earned him a newfound, if perhaps wary, admiration from each of them. He was a good fit. Certainly more so than Geralt would be if he ever took up Jaskier's standing invitation to spend the winter with him in Oxenfurt.

And, from the moment the crumbling towers of Kaer Morhen had crept into view, there had been a light in Jaskier's eyes unlike any Geralt had seen before. He listened to Vesemir talk with the same expression he would get back when Geralt had first relented to Jaskier's constant pestering for information about the monsters he fought, and each day he was awake with the dawn, even when there was no need to, just to uncover as many of the keep's secrets as he could before nightfall.

There was still no sign of Jaskier when Geralt headed up to their room late that night, though Geralt wasn't overly concerned. He'd probably lost track of time somewhere, and would burrow his way into Geralt's arms soon enough, armed with enough questions to last them until the dawn.

Geralt left plenty of space for Jaskier to slip into bed beside him, and closed his eyes.

Out in the wild, Geralt's enhanced senses and years of training had taught him to be aware of even the slightest noise, ready to rouse himself and spring into action at a moment's notice — a handy skill on the Path, where monsters and, in his experience, plenty of humans were happy enough to sneak up on a sleeping man with ill intentions. It was, however, less appreciated in the safety of his rooms in Kaer Morhen.

At a howling gust of wind that rattled the window and sent raindrops hammering against the panes, Geralt's eyes snapped open, his body already primed for a fight. He sat up and looked around, just in case. All was quiet in the room. The only movement was the constant pounding of rain on the glass.

There was still no sign of Jaskier.

Geralt frowned and climbed out of bed. Even if Jaskier had discovered new nooks and crannies to explore, he would have been back by now. Geralt wandered the halls, senses trained on Jaskier's familiar scent and the constant noise that seemed to follow him wherever he went, mentally cataloguing any hidden places in the keep where Jaskier might have got himself lost.

He stopped outside the heavy doors to the library. Beneath the doors, he could see the faint flicker of candlelight. Of course.

"For fuck's sake, bard," Geralt muttered, before he pushed the door open.

Inside, Jaskier was slumped over one of the tables, books stacked in precarious towers around him and the candle at his elbow sputtering as it neared the end of its wick. He snapped his head up at the sound of Geralt's approach, blinking rapidly as if he was struggling to remember where he was.

"Have you been up here all day?" said Geralt, arms folded across his chest. He'd have rolled his eyes if Jaskier didn't happen to be so frustratingly endearing in moments like this: not fully awake yet, bleary eyed and running a hand through the mess of his hair to try and bring it back under control.

Jaskier scoffed. "Don't be dramatic, it's only—" He glanced to the window, half obscured by the piles of books that had outgrown the shelves, nothing but velvet blackness and the trails left by the stranded raindrops visible through it. "—night time."

He didn't sound particularly concerned by that, though. Instead, he simply picked up his quill and returned his attention to the book he had been using as a pillow. Geralt did roll his eyes then.

As Jaskier continued making notes, Geralt straddled the bench beside him and looked over at some of the tomes littering the table. History books; encyclopaedias on various creatures; diaries of long-dead priests and mages that Geralt was sure hadn't been cracked open for centuries. It was an odd collection. Geralt couldn't imagine what use Jaskier could possibly have for at least half of these books.

"What the fuck are you doing with all of these?" he said with a frown as he turned one book over in his hands, its leather bindings so worn with age Geralt couldn't even make out the title.

Jaskier didn't look up from his frantic scribbling. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you've lost your mind."

"Well it would, to you," said Jaskier, and though there was no bite to the words, Geralt still felt as if he'd somehow just been subtly insulted.

He picked up one of Jaskier's notebooks and began flipping through the pages. They were all filled with Jaskier's looping handwriting, growing steadily into a hurried scrawl as Geralt reached the end. He caught snippets of notes on monsters — where to find them, how to kill them, which parts to use in which potions — notes on long-forgotten kingdoms; notes on things that simply seemed to have caught Jaskier's imagination. Geralt couldn't imagine how many books Jaskier had parsed just to fill this one notebook. And from the look of it, Jaskier was well on his way to filling another.

"Where did you find all of this information?" Geralt said.

Jaskier gestured vaguely to the room around them. "Well, no, actually," he corrected himself. "I'm still barely halfway through." He pointed to the bookshelves lining the walls and _tsk_ ed. "I should be further along by now."

Geralt stared back at him, incredulous. "You're trying to read the entire library?" he said flatly. He'd thought he was immune to Jaskier's ridiculous ideas by now, but apparently not.

There was something hungry in Jaskier's eyes when he met Geralt's gaze. It reminded Geralt of the way Jaskier used to look at him when he returned from a hunt, perched eagerly in front of Geralt with his notebook in hand, waiting for Geralt to share the details. He'd lost some of his fervour over the years as he grew more familiar with the creatures Geralt was tasked with dispatching, yet it seemed his thirst for knowledge was as strong as ever.

"Do you know how much vital information could be stored in this room?" said Jaskier. "How much worldly knowledge that's been lost to history? It's inconceivable, Geralt. _Inconceivable_."

He went back to his task, jotting down a quick passage before springing to his feet and pulling another book off the shelves. Geralt watched as he flicked through the pages like he was searching for something in particular.

"So you're not coming back to bed?"

Jaskier snapped the book closed and looked up at him. "Have you read more than a fraction of these books?"

"Of course not."

"Exactly. And if you haven't in all your many, many—"

"Not _that_ many," Geralt cut in.

"—many years in Kaer Morhen, how can I hope to do so in such an impossibly short stretch of time?"

Geralt paused, chewing on the inside of his lip as he considered. The thought had been lurking, half-formed, in the back of his mind for a while, but only now did it take shape into something tangible. "It doesn't have to be," he said.

Jaskier had his nose buried in the pages again when Geralt looked over to him. "Doesn't have to be what?" he said, absently.

"A short time."

"Geralt," said Jaskier. He'd obviously found what he was looking for, and he set the book back in its place and returned to his notes. "You need to be back on the Path. You're like a caged bear when you go too long without killing something."

"There's always next winter."

Jaskier looked up then, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips, like he wasn't sure if the situation warranted it yet, if there was some chance he might be reading things wrong. "You want me to come back next winter?"

"Only if you want to."

"Of course I want to," said Jaskier.

"Good."

Jaskier's smile stretched into a wide, warm grin, and he leant in to press his lips to Geralt's. Geralt cupped Jaskier's face in his hands, feeling that same warmth spread through him.

"So will you come to bed now?" said Geralt once they'd pulled apart.

Jaskier got to his feet. "Let me just finish this page," he said as he took a step towards the bookshelves once again.

Geralt sighed, and he was up. Before Jaskier could select another book, Geralt caught up with him, hoisting Jaskier over his shoulder and turning to leave the room.

Jaskier squawked in indignation. "Oh, this is how you witchers solve disputes, is it? How utterly barbaric! You can't just cart me off like some prize just to get what you want," he cried, wrestling against Geralt's hold. There wasn't much he could do, though, draped like a sack of potatoes over Geralt's shoulder, and he knew it. "Villain, unhand me!"

With a grin, Geralt landed a playful slap on Jaskier's arse as he carried him back to their room.

Jaskier's protestations didn't cease until Geralt had set him down onto their bed and climbed back under the covers. After a moment to shuck off his clothes Jaskier was slipping into bed beside him, nuzzling against Geralt as if he hadn't been elaborately cursing his very existence only moments ago. Geralt smiled and curled an arm around him.

"You know, I plan to hold you to that promise," said Jaskier. "Don't think you can slip away next winter without me."

"I know."

Outside, the rain continued to fall, announcing winter's end. But as Geralt listened to the sounds of it nagging at the glass, the weight in his stomach was a little lighter. The months would pass, as they always did. And before long, he and Jaskier would be right back here again.


End file.
